Wasted Honor Rewrite
by slytherin-mafia
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is a man who does what he thinks is right, no matter the rest of the worlds feelings. And in doing so, he has thrown Harry Potter's world into another loop before he even meets the Headmaster. SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

**Summery-Albus Dumbledore is a man who does what he thinks is right, no matter the rest of the worlds feelings. And in doing so, he has thrown Harry Potter's world into another loop before he even meets the Headmaster. What the boys is a summer jam packed with new relatives and revelations. AU, Slash! Weasley, Hermione, Dumbledore Bashing.**

**Pairings: 01/04, 03/02, 05/06, PW/HP**

**This is the Rewritten version. Pairings have changed, and hopefully its all around better. I am uploading this here, for the simple fact that I have readers who enjoyed it that may not have found it on my new site. I will leave it up, but I will be watching carefully, because to be honest I don't trust this website as far as I can throw my apartment building.**

**Disclaimer-I own nothing, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Also, MANY MANY THANKS, to SakuraEternity, who was gracious enough to look over this and fix a TON of errors that I didn't see. *bows down***

* * *

Harry knew something was wrong the second he jerked awake to the feeling of being dragged from his cupboard by one foot. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the blurry form of Vernon Dursley standing above him, a beefy hand reaching for him. Harry blamed his lack of reflexes on being barely awake as he failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and yanked him from the bed by the collar of his too-large shirt.

"BOY!" Vernon shouted at him, his face purple, spittle flying into Harry's face. "Did you think you would get away with telling lies about us? Did you really think they would come SAVE you?" Harry had no idea what his Uncle was talking about, he was more concerned about trying to keep the shirt from choking the air from his lungs.

"ANSWER ME!

Harry just shook his head, his face turning red. He knew that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to come up with an answer good enough for his Uncle. He never could, and that was a lesson hard learned. When he continued to struggle to breath and didn't answer Vernon's question, the large man snarled in rage and threw the boy backwards towards the door of the cupboard with enough force to send both Harry and the door crashing inwards. Harry winced out of more than just pain as he felt the door break underneath him. Now he'd be picking wood splinters out of the already uncomfortable, worn in, thin mattress that was his bed, and he knew that he wouldn't get them all.

Harry lay gasping for breath, a sharp pang in his chest telling him that he probably broke a rib...or two in addition to the pieces of his door that was digging into his back. He knew that blood was already staining the surface underneath him, probably spreading. That didn't stop Vernon, who grabbed him by the foot, and pulled him out of the cupboard where his large bulk couldn't fit. A cruel grin on his face, Vernon pulled his foot back and thrust it back forward again, sending it crashing down on the form below him, knocking the air from his lungs. Harry groaned in pain and rolled over as much as he could, coughing up blood.

It was the most vicious beating that Harry could remember receiving, in a life full of them, and for the first time since arriving on his relatives doorstep, Harry knew that he was truly going to die.

And he didn't even know why. Most of the time, Vernon took great pleasure in explaining exactly how Harry was a freak, down to the last detail. He never made vague statements, also made sure Harry knew exactly what he had done wrong that time, even if it was leaving a piece of lint on the kitchen counters after he cleaned.

Never anything like this.

"I have news for you, freak, you are NEVER getting out of here. You're NEVER going to be able to spread your Freakishness to anyone else, EVER!" Harry managed to find the energy to roll away from the second stomp, though how he was never able to figure out exactly how he forced his battered body to move an inch, even years later. Unfortunately, his movement caused him to hit the bottom step of the stairs and he clenched his eyes shut as he saw Vernon moving towards him again, face red and a vein throbbing in his forehead.

He saw nothing else as he fell into the black.

Petunia Dursley felt like she was going to faint as she stepped out of her room and onto the top of the stairs, staring down at the limp bloody body of her nephew. She gave a cry of rage and glared down at her husband, who showed no remorse for the state the boy was in. Of course, she wasn't upset that the brat was injured, far from it, but it couldn't have happened at a worse time. She gripped the opened letter in her hands tighter, and turned the Freak over with her foot.

"Vernon! Now what are we going to do? They're going to be here in the morning, and you've killed him!" She felt her blood pressure rising at the thought of the trouble they were going to be in. And what the neighbors were going to think! That thought alone prompted her to almost race down the stairs and press a light hand to Harry's throat, lip curling as his blood stained her fingers but praying for a pulse. If Vernon had killed the boy, they were ruined in this town!

Fortunately, a weak pulse did flit against her fingers, and she looked up at Vernon, who was white at a sheet. He'd finally realized what he'd done, how much trouble he'd gotten them in.

"Vernon, get him to the car. If you've killed him, and Dumbledore Finds out, I'll divorce you, I swear to you I will."

She stood up and turned on her heel with a huff, heading off to wake Dudley. They didn't have very long to get the freak to the hospital, so she dragged her son out of bed, ignoring his complaints and cries for the first time in her life, and shoved him in the car next to the boy before climbing in the front herself.

Vernon backed out of the driveway like the devil was on his heels, squealing tires and causing several of the neighbors to peek out of their curtains to see what was going on, despite the late hour. Petunia winced, but faced resolutely forward. She was a smart woman, she would come up with a good reason for their leaving.

After all, the Boy was so clumsy that the neighborhood would believe anything when it came to his injuries.

She was more worried about the head of that Freak school, and how the brat ended up on her doorstep anyway, because he was NOT her nephew.

Petunia Evans was an only child.

Until that morning she woke up and wasn't.

* * *

Doctor Carlilse Dillard had seen a lot in his tour of London International Hospital, and he thought that once he started at Surrey General, he would start treating sprained ankles and cases of the flu, and he was looking forward to it. He had seen too many accidents, assaults, and domestic abuse cases and he was sick of it.

So when he went into work one Thursday night, he was expecting an easy night with enough time for him to sneak off and watch the episode of General Hospital that he had managed to tape while he was asleep that morning. What he wasn't expecting was the obese man who came barreling through the Emergency Room doors, carrying a bloody bundle in his arms and bellowing loudly for anyone who would listen.

"I need a Bloody Doctor!" Dr. Dillard threw a stethoscope over his neck and raced across the room, feeling the adrenalin flowing through his veins just like the old days.

"What happened?" His staff was behind him, and they transferred the boy, clearly young, from the mans arms and onto a gurney. They all paused and stared at the trauma that littered the boys frame, forgetting to be professional. Carlilse didn't, he had seen this before and he knew that he didn't have time to get sentimental.

"Come on people, snap to!" They moved at his voice and a nurse went to the man's side and coaxed him out of the way, dodging his hand as he reacted violently at her attempts to look him over and make sure he hadn't been injured as well. She began taking a history as Carlilse followed the circus heading into Trauma One. He didn't have time to wait to hear what had happened, he had a boy to save.

Over an hour later, and several crashes, and they finally had Harry stabilized and on his way to the ICU. Carlilse took off his bloody gown and tossed it into a HazMat can next to the door, before he headed out to the group containing the man who'd brought the boy in. They looked up as he came in, but none of them moved to ask how Harry was doing. The wife actually looked back down at her nails, unconcerned, and the little boy that was headed the quick way to a heart attack before he was twenty went back to begging for sweets. The male, Vernon Dursley they had learned from the patients history.

"Mr. And Mrs. Dursley." He forced a small smile on his face, even though he wanted to rant and rave about people who should not have children, "Harry is in ICU. We stabilized him, though with the extent of his injuries he has a long recovery ahead of him." Understatement.

Carlilse looked down at the charts he held in his hands and then steeled his nerves. It had been a long time since he'd had to face an abuser, but he wasn't going to back down. "Mr. Dursley, I need to know what happened to Harry." The man's face paled, and he eyes shifted from side to side, refusing to land on Dr. Dillard's face. Carlilse smiled briefly. The man knew that he knew, and that was what he wanted.

"We told that nurse, the boy fell down the stairs at home. He's a very clumsy child, it happens all the time." Petunia Dursley's voice was calm, and she seemed utterly unconcerned about the state her nephew was in.

But Carlilse wasn't going to fall for that.

"Mrs. Dursley, you do not sustain injuries like that from falling down the stairs. Your nephew had a perforated spleen, six broken ribs, one of which punctured his right lung, a hair line fracture to his skull, a sprained wrist, and so many contusions I could write a book about them." As he listed of injuries, not all of which were recent he was sad to know, the man went paler and paler until he sank down into a waiting room chair, the seat groaning under his weight. The wife just shrugged.

"Well, he fell down the stairs, doctor. That's what happened, and I dare you to prove otherwise." She sniffed at him, as if she thought there was no way he could. He just smirked and flipped to a page in his case file. He had never praised Polaroid Instant Photo's as much as he was with this case. He turned the page around and showed it to. She went sheet white and sank down beside her husband, placing a hand to her mouth and moaning.

Carlilse didn't blame her, it was very hard to argue with a doctor who was holding the picture of a shoe shaped bruise stamped into her nephews chest. You could even see the tread that had been on the bottom of his shoe.

Carlilse turned to the nearest security guard and motioned him closer.

"Call Preventor's, and don't let those three leave." The Guards moved in to do as they were asked, and Carlilse turned on his heel to tend to this patient again, ignoring the animal like bellows coming from behind him as the Dursley family were corralled and forced back down into the plastic hospital seats. He may be an ER doctor but there was no way on Gods green Earth that he was going to leave Harry in anyone else's hands.

He was going to see this one through til the end.

* * *

AN-And there's the first chapter of the new version. Leave a review and let me know what you think!

Slytherin


	2. Chapter 2

**AN-Here's chapter two! This chapter is over 2000 words longer than the last time around, so it has been much fleshed out and changed, so I hope ya'll enjoy!**

**Disclaimer-I still own nadda. :(**

* * *

Chapter Two

Lady Une? You wanted to see me?" Lady looked up and nodded at her senior most Agent, motioning him into the room. He didn't take the seat that was sitting in front of her desk, but stayed standing at attention, his hands folded behind his back. She honestly hadn't expected him to sit. It would leave him too vulnerable to attack, even though he was in the most protected building in the city. She just shook her head and smirked. This boy, no, man, would never change, and she wasn't sure that she ever wanted him to.

"Agent Chang" She leaned forward, folding her hands together on her desk. "You are accompanying Agent Winner to Surrey, England, are you not?" He raised one slim eyebrow in her direction, before nodding sharply once. He wasn't quite sure where she was going with this, but he was sure that he was going to find out. "I need you to do a mission for me while you are in the area." She passed over the file that had been compiled in a few short hours, leaning back and watching as he read it. It was thick, thicker than most would be when they were compiled as quickly as this one had been. But it was necessary that she was as detailed as possible. Especially considering who the victim was related to. It would be a nightmare if things weren't handled as expeditiously and correctly as possible. And if she was on the mark in her assumptions about his character, she wouldn't even need to explain what she wanted to the man in front of her.

And correct she was. Agent Chang looked up from the last page of the file with blazing black eyes, and his fist was tightly wrapped around one side of the folder, bending it. "Consider it done." He spun sharply on his heel and headed towards the door, the file still in his grasp, but she stopped him. She wanted nothing more than to let him go, let him met out the justice that he was so dedicated to, and that was so richly deserved in this situation, but she couldn't.

She had taken an oath to uphold the law of the ESUN, and barring extreme terrorist situations where martial law was all but guaranteed, she had to prosecute and punish within the extent of that law. And letting one of her most dangerous terrorist-turned-Agents free rein when dealing with the suspects would violate that very law she was sworn to protect and uphold.

It was quite a quandary, one of the many she had faced since taking control of Preventors. And not the first one of this extent, sadly.

"Wufei." He turned to look at her, it wasn't often that she used his full name. "I want them alive." She met his eyes head on, imposing her will through her very stare. It wouldn't work unless he wanted it to, but she had high hopes that particular agent would follow the rules.

It was the reason that she had chosen him for this particular job.

And also because he was smart and savvy enough to read between the lines of the orders he was given.

She said Alive.

He smirked as he go the message she was trying to impart.

Alive didn't necessarily mean unharmed.

* * *

Duo looked over at his companion as they got out of the black sedan, slinging uniform jackets over holsters that were in plain view. The former pilot made a face. If G could only see him now. From street rat, to terrorist, to COP of all things.

It was almost a travesty.

He assumed that Heero felt the same, but of course a look at the Perfect Soldier showed nothing but pure stoicism. If you knew the pilot, you could see the tension lines around his eyes, and the anger hidden deep in their depths, but Duo wasn't stupid enough to bring either fact up.

His friend and work partner was already angry that this mission had come at the worst possible time, right when Quatre had found the nephew who had been missing since before he was born, the nephew that the blond had looked for every spare second that he had. Heero wanted nothing more than to be there for his lover as he met the next heir to the Winner family.

But that couldn't happen because some poor kid had been used as a punching bag, and the Preventers had to handle it. Duo and Heero just happened to be the agents in the area.

Duo almost would have felt sorry for the perps who were on the receiving end of his wrath. But then he realized that these were child abusers, and they deserved every bit of it.

More than, actually. Damn the limits of the law.

As they stepped into the hospital, they both wore grim looks, and studied each and every person in the building as if they could be the ones they were after. They hadn't gotten a clear description of the suspects, just a cryptic comment from the officer from the local PD that was first on the scene, that they would hear the bastards before they saw them.

So far they hadn't heard anything but the normal sounds of a hospital lobby, if not a little quieter than Duo anticipated, war time experiences and all. The two marched up to the main desk, determined to cut the bullshit and ask to be lead to the suspects, instead of wandering around and making an ass out of themselves and the organizations by wandering into random rooms until try found who they were looking for. The girl behind the counter, a cute brunette that probably had every male in a ten foot radius drooling, looked up and smiled them, at least until she caught sight of the badges and rather poorly hidden guns.

He just gave her a shark's grin, showing all of his teeth.

"Where are they?"

He didn't ask for them by name, but the receptionist clearly knew who he was talking about, raising a shaky hand and she shakily raised a hand and pointed down the left hallway.

"All the way at the end, in...in the closed off waiting room. You'll, you'll hear them before then." He nodded and turned around Heero already heading down the corridor when the finger first lifted, leaving him to catch up.

As the two of them got closer to the doors at the end of the hall, voices could be clearly heard coming through the steel, a holdover from the war days, a male voice that seemed very unhappy.

"I DEMAND THAT YOU RELEASE MY FAMILY!" The pilots sped up, Heero bringing his gun up in a motion that was more ingrained in him than breathing. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!" There was a crash, and then they were through the door.

And what a disaster area it was. A large man, more likened to a walrus than to an actual human being, was throwing the security guard trying to restrain him across the room, while a boy egged him on from the background.

Heero took one look at the situation, and raised his gun, firing a single shot into the air. Most people, sane and insane alike, would stand up and pay attention when a gun went off, unless there was no survival instinct at all. The gunshot did its job, and all figures in the room froze immediately, turning to look at him. The security guard, just picking himself up from the floor, glared at the two of them with a muttered 'Its about bloody time", before making his way very quickly to the door, which he slammed behind him as he left.

Duo stared at the three standing in front of them, the male's chest heaving from his exertion and face red as a tomato. Shinigami found his eyes drawn inexplicably towards the pulsing vein in the whale's forehead, and he had only one thought.

It was going to be a long day.

He took a deep breath and then headed purposefully towards the large man since Heero seemed more inclined just to stare at the trio as if he was imagining the best way to kill them the fastest, most painful way possible. Duo didn't blame him; he just pulled out his badge into full view as he went. He missed the War Days, when he could have just shot the man and not felt bad about it.

* * *

Quatre Winner stared in confusion at the door in front of him, bringing his hand up to knock yet again, and yet again there was no answer.

Hadn't he said that he would be there today? He looked at his partner, the former clown giving a one sided shrug. He honestly had no idea what was going on, he wasn't even supposed to be here, but Wufei had ended up with a last second mission, as had Duo and Heero, and he'd been the last one tapped to accompany the blond. Not that it was that much of an imposition, but he had been scheduled to perform at the circus, and Earth was a little out of the way. But no one was going to let the Winner Heir handle this alone, no matter what, in case it didn't have a good outcome.

"I don't think they're home, Little One." They both returned to their observation of the house, now getting the distinct feeling that they were missing something. Something important. It looked like a regular home in the suburbs, maybe on the upper end of the middle class, but certainly nothing out of the ordinary. The clown cringed at the sight. He hated anything that was in total uniformity, and bar the color of the cars and the drapes in the windows, Privet drive was identical to the last house.

"I'm going in." Quatre had come to a decision while Trowa was lost in his introspection, and began rooting through his pockets, coming out with a full lock picking kit. Trowa just shook his head.

"You've been around Duo too much." Quatre laughed, flashing blinding white teeth and nodding.

"He's Heero's best friend, what do you expect? Besides" He knelt down in front of the door, sliding his tools in and jiggling them around until he heard the telltale click of the lock opening. "Its come in handy from time to time. Like the Perez case."

Both pilots chuckled as the taller of the two reached out to push open the door, the blond pulling a weapon before he stepped into the darkened foyer, just in case. Neither of them expected trouble, but as the inhabitants of the house had known that Quatre was coming and yet were absent, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

Trowa jerked his head up the stairs when they were fully inside the door, and his fellow pilot nodded, taking the stairs silently. He heard nothing, and saw nothing as he crested the top of the stairs, all the doors closed and shielding their occupant's privacy. Quatre pushed each door open, scanning all four rooms with his gun brought to bear, but he found nothing more than a room full of broken toys and a rather messy child's room. He was slightly confused, as his Intel had shown two children living in the home, yet only one of the rooms showed evidence of a child, the other room looked more like a steril guest room.

Maybe one of the children was neat to the point of obsession. For his sanity he hoped it wasn't his nephew.

"QUATRE!" Trowa's shout, rare as it was for the clown to raise his voice, had the blond racing down the stairs as if the house was coming down around his ears. Something had to be very wrong for the clown to be screaming.

He came to a stop beside the other pilot, who was looking into a broom cupboard in shock. A broom cupboard with no door. Unfortunately, Trowa's night vision was better than Quatre, and as all the shades were drawn and the two hadn't turned on the lights in case they notified others that people other than the Dursleys were searching the house, Quatre couldn't see anything. Other than half the door that was still attached at the hinges, the other half who knows where. But it was a cupboard, a door wasn't very vital.

"Trowa, what is it? What's wrong?" Trowa merely pointed into the small space and the Sandrock pilot found his eyes drawn into the darkness.

What he saw made ZERO start eating at the edges of his sanity.

There was a small cot stuffed into the space, with a rat eaten blanket on top. The remainder of the door was lying on top of the pitiful excuse for a bed, splinters scattered around the floor. The door was stained with blood, blood that had pooled in the shape of a very small, too small, body. The blond let his eyes scan the rest of the small space, hoping that what he thought was going on, actually wasn't. But he had no such luck, as small broken toys, toys that you could easily hide from prying eyes, were lined up neatly on the shelf, next to a backpack that had definitely seen better days.

And taped on the wall was a crudely drawn picture, a picture of a lady with red hair and green eyes, and a man with messy black hair and glasses. Written at the bottom of the picture in green crayon that matched the woman's eyes were the words "My Family. By Harry James Potter." Quatre felt Trowa grab his arm and drag him towards the door of the house, but he couldn't hear the words the clown was speaking, chanting, into his ear.

All he heard was the voice of the ZERO system killkillkillkillkilll

As they left the house, neither noticed the blood that they were tramping over at the bottom of the stairs, blood that filled their footsteps as they left the house.

"Quatre you have to calm down. We'll find them, just calm down." Trowa felt himself beginning to panic, stoic nature aside, at the hysterical laughter that bubbled from the normally calm pilots mouth. He sounded completely insane, and Trowa knew that if they didn't find Harry Potter, and soon, and if he wasn't in perfect health, they were going to be faced with completely Homicidal Quatre Winner, and when that happened, colonies and people tended to die quite quickly.

And in great amounts.

Especially when Heero found out someone had set his lover off, then they had two ZERO pilots on their hands, and he wasn't sure which idea was scarier.

The Tall pilot had almost gotten the blond into the car, when the voice came from behind him. He turned around briefly, examining the woman who stood in front of number six, a child hiding behind her legs. "Are you two looking for the Dursleys?"

Trowa nodded and shoved Quatre into the car, yanking his gun from him as he did, thanking every god that he knew of that the blond hadn't shot as he did so, and turned to face the woman, "They aren't here."

"Could you tell me where they are?" He resisted the urge to pull out his badge. They were not on official duty, so they didn't have any official standing at the moment which meant he couldn't intimidate the woman into giving up the information they wanted, even with the scene they'd witnessed inside.. "Its vital that we find them."

The Dursleys' neighbor nodded. "They're at the hospital. That nephew of theirs got into some trouble again. They left about three A.M this morning." Trowa nodded and climbed into the drivers seat, pulling away from the curb with a squeal of tires, leaving the helpful woman staring after him in shock.

Trowa knew without having to hear the muttering from the passenger seat that this wasn't going to end well. For the Dursleys anyway.

* * *

Duo stared down at the body lying prone in the ICU bed. He was only nine years old, and barely had the strength to take each breath. Potter, H.J. was hooked up to so many wires, monitors, and IV tubes to combat rampant malnutrition, that a free space of skin couldn't be seen. Even his face was covered with an air mask, the normal tubes they usually used not delivering enough air to the battered little body.

Things like this weren't supposed to happen. After the second war, things were supposed to stop being so...violent, so unnecessary. Otherwise, what had they fought for? He wiped a hand over his face, looking at the clock. Duo knew who the boy was now, how could they not when it was all that Quatre had talked about for the last two weeks? If it hadn't been for that last minute terrorist track down they'd be placed on weeks ago, they would have been here sooner. He curled his hands into fists, grabbing onto the material of his uniform pants and tugging. If they hadn't taken it, if the others were trained enough to handle the case, that ended up panning into loose ends and nothing more, would they have been in time to stop this? Or would it have happened sooner?

They still had no idea why Vernon snapped, when the man realized that the local Police Department wasn't going to be handling his case, where he could have bought and bargained his way out, but the International Preventers Organization, he shut up and called for his lawyer up, refusing to say another word or allow his wife to. The son had been carted off earlier by Social Services, to be either delivered to his paternal aunt, or a group home for the night, and the pilot could honestly not care less what happened to the little brat. It was clear that the parents were not the only ones who got their shots in on the little Potter.

Duo almost wanted to drop Quatre's name, but he knew that as scared as the Dursleys were of the Preventers, they would be even more terrified of the Winner Heir. Money always talked more than the law, after all, and Quatre had no shortage of either.

"Still can't get through." Heero spoke from behind him, and if he had been anyone else, Duo would have jumped a mile. As it was, he just nodded and sighed again, running a hand gently through Harry's fringe. They had been calling both Quatre and Trowa's cell phones for the last half hour, and hadn't gotten anything other than voice mail. The two had probably left them on the plane again. No matter how many times their respective lovers nagged them, the cell phones were almost an after thought to the two pilots. Even though Quatre ran a multibillion dollar empire, and was supposed to be always contactable, he seemed to thrive on leaving it behind and going a few free hours away from all of his responsibilities.

It was times like this that that desire for freedom and rebellion became a right pain in the ass.

"Well, we better keep trying. He's probably there by now, and if he thinks we didn't try to tell him as soon as we knew who the victim was..." Duo shuddered as the thought filled his head. He wished briefly that his lover was there, Trowa was a source of continuous comfort for the braided pilot but he knew that the once clown had his hands full with a probably homicidal blonde. He would have to make do with the warm hand of his best friend that settled on his shoulder and squeezed in reassurance, about a s tactile a gesture as the perfect soldier got with anyone besides quatrefoil. Duo couldn't finish his sentence, as the yelling began. Both pilots were up and towards the door when the first words registered through the hospital rooms surprisingly thick walls.

"WHERE IS HE?"

'And the shit hits the fan' Duo thought briefly, before he and Heero were both running out the door to stop Quatre from killing the Dursleys. Not that they didn't deserve it, but it would be much more satisfying to see them get theirs in front of the people they were trying to impress the most.

And the God of Death was going to be there to watch.

* * *

Wufei cursed as he finally stepped pulled up in front of the Dursleys residence, cursing the shuttle pilot who seemed to have forgotten which way was forward. They'd sat three hours on the tarmac before what ever problem it was had been resolved and he was able to take off.

And this was a Preventers shuttle, he was already writing a demotion recommendation in his head, complete with scathing words describing the pilots incompetence. He almost ran up to the door, though he would later deny it if asked, and pounded on the door.

Or started to, as soon as his fist made contact with the door, it pushed inwards. He blinked and pulled his weapon, moving to take a step inside, when a voice echoed from behind him. He whirled, pointing the gun at the person's face, his badge in full sight.

The woman gave a screech and stepped back, shielding her child as best as she could. Wufei sighed and put his gun away, giving his best professional smile.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I wasn't expecting you. Did you need anything?" As an officer of the law, he was required to help a member of the public when asked, as long as it was a law matter. He was hoping she just needed a cup of sugar and he could send her on her way as quickly as possible. If the door was open, that meant one of two things. Either A) The Dursleys' had locked up whenever they left, probably in a panic that their deeds were being found out, or B) Quatre had already been there, and was on his way to the hospital.

The hospital was probably not going to be left standing if the blonde had his way.

The woman just placed a hand to her heart, chest heaving as she fought to control her fear.

"I was just going to tell you that the Dursley's weren't home, they rushed away early this morning. I didn't want you to waste your time like those other poor boys did. They looked quite upset when they left, but I beg your pardon for trying to care." Her courage seemed to have come back to her as she talked, and by the last she gave a little huff and put a hand on her daughter's arm, pulling the little girl back to her lawn and seemingly ignoring the officer.

Wufei could only put a hand to his head and groan. If only he had gotten here earlier, he would have saved himself one hell of a headache.

That pilot wasn't going to be flying anything more complex than a hover cart for the next decade if he had anything to say about it.

* * *

AN-And there's the chapter folks. Read and review, even if you hate it!

Slytherin


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